


Confidential Information

by JustAWinchesterGirl



Series: SPN/Reader Oneshots [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Reader fic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5817220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAWinchesterGirl/pseuds/JustAWinchesterGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Dean have been dancing around each other for months now, but neither one of you does anything about it. Until one drunken night when you confide about your feelings to Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confidential Information

**Author's Note:**

> First Reader fic, so I hope it's good :P Just a quick little oneshot- nothing fancy.  
> Again, sorry if the formatting sucks.

You should have known better, really. You’d known these boys for a year now and you should never have agreed when you heard the words; “Tequila shots!” leave Dean Winchester’s mouth. To be fair, you were already inhibited.

You hadn’t been hunting long. When you first fell in with the Winchesters, all those months ago when they’d met you on a vampire hunt and taken you under their wing, Dean barely let you hunt at all. Never mind that you knew what you were doing, sometimes better than they did- you _were_ psychic after all- Dean thought your inexperience in the actual killing part would hold them back. You were pretty sure that was just his way of saying he worried about you.

You and Dean had been dancing around each other for months now, honestly you weren’t sure why Dean hadn’t done anything about it already but if he was just going to sit on his feelings you were perfectly happy playing that game too. You had had one drunken night together, only a month after you met, and a brief, “Look, Y/N, I’m not the commitment type. There’s just too much shit in my life for me to be able to be there for you,” conversation, and that was that. But Dean didn’t stop flirting, or acting possessive and protective, and like he actually cared about you. It was driving you crazy, actually, but you weren’t going to be the one to bring it up.

Tonight, though, you’d just come back from one of the most terrifying hunts of your life and you were high on life and drunk on vodka coolers, and tequila shots. There were four of you in the small motel room, not wanting to make the long drive back to the bunker so late at night.

Sam claimed one bed, you the other (after much insisting on Dean’s part), Dean the couch, and Cas a chair since he didn’t really sleep.

But at the moment, you and Cas were sat cross-legged on your bed, sipping your coolers and talking while you watched Sam and Dean squabble.

“Whatever!” Dean ended the argument with and promptly reached over and turned up the radio, “Dance with me, Y/N!” he said, grabbing your hand and yanking you off the mattress.

“Whoa! Dean!” you protested, “My drink!”

He pulled you close to him, with the hand that wasn’t holding a beer on the small of your back and pressed your hips to his, swaying to a rhythm that was way off from the one playing over the radio, “Heya, baby,” he grinned when you were close to him.

“Dean, you are drunk,” you laughed.

“Shut up, you’re drunk!” he countered, grinning at you before moving in close to your ear, “You did great tonight, Y/N.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Dean.”

“You really held your own,” he continued, slurring his words a bit, “I was so worried, but you had a handle on it.”

“You were worried about me?” you asked.

“I-.”

“Dean,” Sam interrupted, “I’m glad you two are having fun, but there’s only one girl in here, so can we do something else?” Sam laughed when his brother made a pouty face and pulled you closer.

“Song sucks, anyway,” you said, pushing yourself away from Dean.

“Hey!” he protested.

Sam’s phone started to ring, and he stepped out of the motel room to answer it.

“What else could we do?” you asked, trying to get the party going again.

“We could play a game,” Dean suggested, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“What sort of game?” Cas asked, a concerned look falling over his features. Despite the entire bottle of vodka the Angel had had to himself, he seemed only slightly buzzed. You handed him what remained of the tequila in order to change that.

“We could play spin the bottle,” you joked.

“With my brother?” Dean shouted, “No way!”

Sam stepped back in the room.

“Well, how about Truth or Dare?” you offered.

“Sounds good to me,” Dean said, “Hey, Sam! Truth or Dare?”

“Yeah, sounds fun, Dean,” Sam answered, not really listening, “but, uh… could I talk to you outside for a minute?” He ushered his brother out the door.

“Don’t start without me!” Dean warned you before following Sam out of the motel room.

You knew there was something bigger going on with Sam and Dean. Something involving Heaven and Hell that they were trying to keep you out of. Usually, you would have complained, but at the moment you couldn’t be bothered to start another fight with Dean about it.

“What is Truth or Dare?” Castiel asked.

“Ok,” you explained, “to play the game, someone will ask, ‘Truth or Dare?’ and you have to pick one. If you pick truth, they can ask you any question they want, and you have to answer honestly. If you pick dare, they’ll dare you to do something, and you have to do it no matter what it is.”

“I see,” Cas said, but he still looked confused.

“Do you want to practice?” you offered.

He nodded.

“Ok, Cas, Truth or Dare?”

“I choose Truth.” He said.

“Okaaaaay,” you thought about it for a minute, “Have you ever had sex?” you ask him, curious about that side of the Angel’s life.

He flushed, “Are these the kinds of questions that are customarily involved in this ritual?”

“Yes, Cas, that’s the point of the game! It’s fun!” you explain.

“I see,” he was silent for a minute, “Yes, I have, once.”

“Only once?” you asked, shocked.

He nodded, “Yes, it was…” he smiled crookedly, “fine. But she tried to kill me afterwards.”

“Remind me to ask you about that one day.” You mumbled, “Okay, your turn.”

“Truth or Dare?” he asked, looking proud of himself for getting the game so quickly.

“Truth,” you answered, taking a sip of your cooler.

“You desire Dean.” He said, monotonously.

You spat out your drink, “That- that’s not a question, Cas.”

“Sorry. Do you desire Dean?” Castiel asked.

“Yes,” you answered truthfully.

“He desires you too, you know.” He tells you.

“I know,” you nod, “but he’ll never do anything about it.”

“Then why don’t you?” he asks.

You don’t know why you tell him. It’s the alcohol, probably. It’s the unending frustration. It’s the concerned way his blue eyes are boring into you. Regardless, you open up and tell him everything. “Because I’m in love with him,” you said, “And he’ll never feel that way, he’ll never be available that way. And whatever, that’s okay. He doesn’t want me that way, he just wants to screw again. And I’d be down for that too, but he doesn’t want to hurt me or whatever. Which is sweet, but I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. But why should I make the first move? Why should I put myself in that position to get heartbroken? If he wants me, he can come to me himself, no matter what it is he wants, but I’m not going to reach out to him just to get turned down.”

“I see,” Cas says, unhelpfully, before the door opens again. Both brothers shuffled through the door, and Dean took a seat on the bed opposite you and Cas.

“Sorry about that,” Sam said.

“Let’s play!” Dean grinned, before his eyes darted between both your and Cas’ sullen expressions, “What’d I miss?

“Y/N is in love with you.” Cas said.

“Castiel!” you screamed and punched his shoulder.

“What did I do?” he asked, a look of terror on his face.

“You weren’t supposed to TELL him!” you shrieked.

“I didn’t know it was classified information.” He said.

Sam shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other.

“You’re in love with me?” Dean blinked.

“Can we have this conversation when we’re sober?” you groaned, covering your face with both of your hands.

Dean pulled one hand away from your face, “Y/N? Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” you said defiantly.

“I dare you to tell me; Are you in love with me?” he asked.

“That’s cheating!” you yelled.

“Y/N.” he says in warning.

You stand up and wrench your hand away from Dean’s, pacing as you answer, “Yes! Yes, Dean! I’m in love with you! But it doesn’t matter, does it? Because you made it VERY clear months ago that this wasn’t going to happen.”

“Y/N-.”

“I’m FINE, Dean!” you protest, “I know you don’t feel the same way, I’m okay with that. I can handle that. Nothing has to be different, you don’t have to do anything-.”

“Y/N!” he shouts, and suddenly you’re aware of him standing right in front of you. He puts his hands on your shoulders and forces you to look up at him.

“What?” you ask, irritated, and embarrassed, and drunk.

“I love you,” he says. Your breath catches in your throat and your cheeks start to get hot, but you don’t let yourself believe him.

“You’re drunk, Dean.” You whisper.

“Yes, I am,” he agrees, “but I’ll still love you tomorrow when I’m sober.”

“You said-.”

“That was months ago, Y/N! I barely knew you then! I’m not gonna lie and say I’m relationship material, or that anything with me has changed since then, but the way I feel about you did change. Y/N, I thought that one night stand was all that you wanted from me.” He said.

“That’s what I thought about you,” you told him.

“Y/N,” he breathed, “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.” You said again.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his face down to yours as you stood on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. His lips collided softly with yours. Dean was soft, and warm, and tasted like tequila and beer. His stubble brushed against your cheeks as you kissed. He smelled like alcohol, and sweat, and  _Dean_. His arms snaked around your waist to hold you closer to him. Your fingers tangled themselves in the short hair at the nape of his neck and pushed him down closer to you.

Sam cleared his throat.

Dean put you down and turned to glare at his little brother, “Could you be more of a cock block, Sammy?”

“Well, where are we supposed to go, Dean? This is our room too.” Sam complained.

“Dean, it’s okay.” You said, “Let’s go back to the party.”

You resumed the game, sitting closely by Dean’s side so his hand never had to leave your waist. Sam passed out on the couch a little while later. Cas didn’t sleep, but he seemed to understand your desire for privacy, and crawled into Sam’s empty bed to lie down and rest.

You crawled into bed, scooting over to the edge so Dean could crawl in beside you. You turned in his arms so you were looking at him, drowning yourself in his deep green eyes.

“My life is a mess, Y/N.” he whispered.

“I know,” you say, “but, Dean, I’m already in it.”

He smiles, “Maybe I was just hoping you’d always have a way out.”

“I don’t **want** out, Dean,” you say.

“Y/N-,” he starts.

“No, I’m serious, Dean. Just try and get rid of me. I’m here, I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever shit Heaven or Hell have to throw at you, we can deal with it together.”

He nods, letting his eyes finally close so he can drift off into an alcohol induced sleep, “I love you, Y/N,” he murmurs, tightening his arms around you.

“I love you too, Dean.” You smile as you fall asleep, suddenly very thankful for Cas and his breach of confidentiality.


End file.
